Chasing James
by LovelyLoreley
Summary: When 17 year old James Morten disappears one day, long-time friend Layla gets a very bad feeling. The only thing noticeable in his room is a scattered pile of drawings depicting trees, old buildings, and sketches of a man with long arms and no face. Layla sets out to find James...and begins to realize his strange behavior from the past few weeks may have a trigger. One with no face
1. Prologue

_Dear Diary,_

_ I think if anyone were ever to pick you up and read you, I'd be so embarrassed. Like, every little detail about my life is written between your covers. You know all of my secrets. And I think I need to share a pretty big secret with you now, because I don't know who else would believe me._

_ It's about James. I probably mentioned before how he's gotten really weird over the past few weeks. Like, we used to walk in the woods behind my house all the time, until about a month ago, when he refused to go out there, even in broad daylight. He started acting really weird if we were out past sunset, even though we weren't outside or anything. And the last time I spent the night at his house, he ran around making sure every door and window was shut and locked. It made me uncomfortable, to say the least; I can't deny it. But I ignored that feeling, figuring it was just some odd phase that he was going through, something he'd snap out of eventually._

_ But now he's gone. Just…disappeared. I'm the only one who's worried right now – aside from his mom, of course – but if he doesn't come home soon, the whole town will start searching for him. I just got this awful feeling in my gut when he didn't show up at school this morning. I texted him, called him – and never got a response. By the time I got home, and still hadn't heard from him, I started to panic. Even if he had been sick today, it wasn't like him to ignore me. He _knows_ how worried I get when I don't hear from him. So I called his house._

_ His mom answered by asking, "James?" She sounded frantic and slightly annoyed. When I told her it was me, she asked if I had seen him today. He had been gone when she woke up, and hadn't gotten back from school at the usual time. Like me, she had texted and called him, but with no response. I told her he hadn't been to school today at all._

_ I hung up when she said she was going to call the police. She called me back afterwards, but it was no good; she had seen him less than twenty-four hours ago, and until he's been missing for more than twenty-four hours, the police will not start a search for him. They told her to call back tomorrow, if he hasn't come home by then._

_ He won't be coming home, though, I can feel it. I've asked his mom if I can go over to his house, see if there's anything in his room that might indicate where he's gone. If he's run off, maybe I can find him. I don't think it'll be that easy, but I have to try. I cannot lose James._

_ I'm almost positive I was right before, when I said this wouldn't be easy. James's mom and I have been through his room. There was nothing in there to suggest where he might have gone. It was quite a mess actually. There were papers everywhere, things that James had clearly drawn and then thrown across the floor, because I know the way he sketches._

_ Some of the drawings were very simple, forest scenes with the occasional building in the fore or background. None were in color, so it was impossible to tell the season or the look of the houses. If only he had colored the drawings, perhaps I would know more about where he's gone. Of course, trees and buildings weren't the only things he had drawn. There were also sketches of a tall man in a business suit. The suit was shaded in, but the drawings were all seemingly unfinished; none of the men had a face. If I had to guess, I'd say they were all drawings of the same person. The only really weird thing I noticed was the unnaturally long arms in the drawings; I guess it just surprised me because James normally draws figures in standard proportions._

_ Aside from the sketches, there wasn't really anything in the room. I don't know what I expected to find – a receipt for concert tickets maybe, or a map of Disneyland (okay that was a long shot, I admit, and if he had seriously planned a trip to Disneyland without inviting me I would have killed him). There was nothing but a sense of something missing, almost as though James would never be coming home. If he doesn't text me back by tonight, I think I'm going to be sick._

_Layla_


	2. Chapter 1

I fall asleep with my phone in my hands, waiting for James to call me, or at least text. There are no new messages in my phone when I awake. The realization makes me sick. It is Friday though, and I don't have school, so I drive straight to James' house.

His mom opens the door before I am even fully out of the car. "I called again last night," she starts, and I know without her explaining that she means the police. "I gave them his description, and they know he was last seen here at the house. But they have nothing new as of this morning. He didn't…" she pauses, "he didn't try to contact you last night, did he?"

I shake my head. This cannot be good. James' mom takes a deep shuddering breath. "I had a really awful dream last night. James was wandering through this old abandoned building. It looked like a crematorium. His eyes – they were out of focus, like maybe he was drugged or sleepwalking or something. And he had a gun in his hand. He had no idea I was there. At first I thought he did. He looked up at me at one point and screamed; it took him less than a second to raise the gun and fire it. But the bullet went through me, and when I turned around, there was someone standing there. He was really tall, and bald. I guess he had his back turned, because I never saw a face. I woke up screaming right after that.

"Wherever James is, he doesn't want to be there. I know it, I can feel it!" Her voice has taken on a desperate sobbing quality. Sometime during the telling of her story we came into the house; we are seated at the kitchen table now.

"I know, Mom," I say, placing my hand over hers. I have called her Mom for years now, almost as long as I can remember. "I can feel it, too. But we have no idea where he might be."

She shakes her head vehemently. "No. You don't understand. Whoever took him…they didn't just show up and take him. I think they've been following him for a while. He's been acting very strange lately. He would scream in the middle of the night from nightmares. He would walk through the house every night to make sure everything was looked up. It was like he developed a sudden fear of the dark; he jumped at every little sound. And I know he stopped going on walks with you; he told me himself. He said it wasn't safe in the forest."

So I hadn't been the only one to notice his behavior. Hearing his mom confirm my suspicions was a great relief; it also gave me an idea. "We should start by looking in the forest then. If he was that afraid of it, maybe we can find something – footprints, or tire tracks. We found nothing useful in his bedroom, so we might as well start somewhere else."

"No, it would have to be just you. I cannot follow him, not when I need to take care of Mallory and everything. Besides, what if he came back while we were out searching for him? We would never know…" It is highly unlikely that he would just walk in the door, and we both know it, but I say nothing. I simply nod.

"I'm going to go out and look for him then. You'll call, right? If anything happens?" I swallow a nervous giggle. Why do I have the strangest feeling that even if she were to call, I wouldn't know? She watches from the doorway as I back my car out of her driveway. I could search the forest on foot, but James' car is also missing, which means that if I find the car, I am one step closer to finding him. I hope.

I drive around the streets until I find the road I am looking for, a dirt road meant for forest rangers and maintenance trucks. It is dusty and rutted; my little car bumps and jolts me even at the crawling speed that I have chosen. Too soon, I come to a patch of thick, slimy-looking mud. My little car cannot get through it, so I pull off to the side and hope that it won't be noticed from the road. If anyone drives by, I could easily be fined. There are recent tire tracks in the mud, though, which makes me think that if I follow the road on foot, I might still find James and his truck.

It isn't long before I do see it. The truck looks as if it skidded off the road; it lies at an angle in the ditch. I try the driver side door, and when it opens, I climb in. On the passenger seat is James' phone. That explains why he never called me back; wherever he is, I will have to find him on foot. Back outside the car, I consider where I should go next. Behind me is the road. The only footprints there are mine, so he must have gone into the forest. The question is whether he went in where the trees are thick, or where the space is relatively open.

Judging by James' recent fear of darkness and trees, I opt for the open path. Off the road, the ground is dry, so I have only my gut to follow. After about an hour, I come across a yellow-painted wooden shed with a padlock. The padlock is broken but still holds the door closed. I gently pull the broken lock off the door and swing the door open.

My action is met by a piercing scream.


	3. Chapter 2

I release the edge of the door and jump back, startled. The door swings until it hits the wall with a resounding smack. The scream abruptly cuts off.

It is dark inside the shed and I have to wait for my eyes to adjust. Within a few minutes I can distinguish someone cowering in a corner of the shed, a rake held out protectively in front of his body, like a weapon. We must recognize each other at the same moment, because he lowers the rake just as I say his name and rush into the shed. I admit, running straight at the rake probably wasn't the smartest idea, but I was just so relieved to see him.

"James, what are you _doing _in here? Do you have any idea how frantic your mom and I were when you went missing?" James grabs my arm and pulls me out of the shed, circling around behind it. There are bushes back there, and he drags me down so that we crouch behind them, concealed from what, though, only James can know. I am about to repeat myself, not sure if he heard me, when he levels a serious gaze on my face.

His eyes are glassy and his cheeks hollow, as if he hasn't eaten or slept since his mom last saw him. Dark shadows under his eyes make his skin look deathly pale. "I had to leave," he mutters. "You don't understand, I don't _want_ you to understand. I can't drag you into this."

"Drag me into _what_?" I ask him sharply as my frustration peaks.

He answers me by pointing at a tree almost directly in front of us. On it is carved a symbol – a circle with a giant X crossed through it. He point above our heads and I see the same symbol painted on the shed in crimson ink. I have never seen this symbol before but it clearly means something to James.

He sighs in frustration when he sees that I have no clue what he wants me to understand. "That's his symbol, Layla. The Slenderman. And he's been…following me. Ever since that last walk we took – you remember the one? We went into the glade to watch the sunset and came back in the dark. That was the first day I saw him. I don't think you noticed, but he was there. And he's been near ever since, always standing in the trees. It is terrifying, Lay."

"I have no idea who this Slenderman guy is, Jamey, I've never heard of him," I respond slowly, thinking back to that night. I don't remember anyone being in the forest with us. "But let me get this straight. This…guy, he's the reason you started to avoid the woods, correct? So why, when you ran away or whatever, why did you come here?"

James shakes his head, confused. "I don't know how to explain it. There are legends about the Slenderman monster. I guess you'd probably have to see him to know what I mean, but he just…fucks with your brain. Like, he literally terrifies me. Whenever I see him my mind goes all fuzzy, like a deer in headlights or something. I can't move, I can't think, and I want to scream but I can't do that either. But when he isn't there, it's worse. He scares me but he also has this pull, as though I need to find him."

The more James talks, the more I begin to worry about him. Clearly there is something very wrong with his mind, but I have no idea what it is or how to combat it. I try for reason. "James, look at me. Be honest right now, okay? Is this Slenderman guy here right now?"

"No."

"Are you scared right now, though? Is that why we're hiding?"

"Yes. I'm scared for you. I don't want him to see you. If you look at him, you'll become his next victim. Trust me; you don't want that to happen."

"Okay so you're hiding because I'm here. Why were you hiding in the shed?"

"I wasn't hiding in there. I mistook it for another building, one I meant to enter. It was dark and creepy and I couldn't see. I thought this looked like the house I wanted so I broke the lock. I guess I wasn't the only person in these parts last night, because someone shut the door behind me and shoved the lock back on. It wasn't Slenderman; whoever it was was human."

At that, he abruptly pulls me to my feet and begins to walk into the deeper part of the forest. I assume at this point that we are either running from the person who shut him in the shed, or looking for the place he had meant to find last night. I follow him without a word.

After about a half hour of silent walking, James stops abruptly, crouches down with his head in his hands and moans in pain. "Nooo, please," he murmurs, though I am the only one who can possibly hear him.

I look around him, trying to see what is causing his distress. Through the trees I can make out the form of a cabin. I step around James and walk forward, trying to see it more clearly. It appears to be abandoned, and there is no one in sight. I turn back to look at James; he is exactly where I left him, still muttering to himself. I can no longer hear what he is saying.

When I turn back around, there is someone in the doorway of the cabin. He is tall, dressed all in black, with pale white skin. His arms are unnaturally long and his face is blank. Not an emotionless blank, either, but the blank of no facial features. An oval of unbroken flesh sits above his collar.

I scream. This creature is the spitting image of the sketches that were on James' floor. Faceless. Unnatural. This must be the Slenderman. James was right; something about this thing is utterly terrifying, and I am frozen. My mind mercifully envelopes me, and I sink into blackness.


	4. Chapter 3

I come to in a creaky bed with a scratchy red blanket. When my eyes adjust to the dimness, I can see that the room is completely wooden, with a door on my right, a window across from the bed, and a fireplace next to the door. The fire in the grate is lit.

Something nudges at the back of my mind, but I have no idea what it is. I think there is something important I need to remember. I struggle out of the bed with the blanket wrapped around me and push aside the curtains of the window. It is snowing, and the bright light makes me step back, blinking rapidly. The curtains fall closed.

I don't remember falling asleep or coming into this room, and I swear I didn't light that fire. I am not alone, that much is obvious. Thuds coming from outside have me leaping back to the safety of the bed. It takes me a moment to realize that the thuds are footsteps, heavy like boots that echo as though they are climbing stairs. I eye the door to this room apprehensively, a scream building in my throat. Why am I so afraid?

The knob turns and in walks James, looking haggard and covered with snow. I swallow the scream. James looks at me with tired eyes, and the dark shadows beneath them stand out in the firelight. He comes toward me slowly, cautiously, as if he thinks I am a wild animal that will either bolt or bite him.

He sits next to me on the bed and we don't say anything, just look at each other for a long minute. His hand finds mine and he rubs my palm. His touch sends memories stabbing through my brain.

_The shed. The walk. James, on the ground, holding his head. The cabin. The faceless man._ I want to scream again but I stop myself.

James clears his throat. "You saw him didn't you?" he asks, breaking our eye contact and staring at my hand instead. His voice sounds rusty. I can only nod, afraid that if I open my mouth, I will either scream or vomit. Or both.

"I told you not to come with me! Now we're both screwed, Lay. He'll take me first, but you can't escape him now that he's seen you."

"Jamey, I don't understand. Explain it to me – what happened?"

"I don't completely remember it myself. My ears went all fuzzy and started to ring like they do whenever he's around. That was when we came in sight of this cabin. I tried to tell you to go back, to run, to make sure he didn't see you."

"Oh _that's_ what you were muttering?" I interrupt. James smiles a small, sad smile.

"I didn't think you'd heard me because you kept walking forward. Then I don't know. I must have passed out. When I woke up it was dark and you were just lying there in front of the cabin. I brought you in here and started the fire to warm you up, because it was starting to snow. But I couldn't wake you up. What did he do to you?"

"Nothing," I say, though I am not positive. "At least I don't think so. I just remember seeing this faceless guy in the doorway, and freaking out, and then waking up in here." I pause but James doesn't say anything. He is staring at the fire. "So tell me this. If you want me to stay away from this guy – Slenderman, I think that's what you called him earlier – then why on earth are we in this cabin when this is where I saw him?"

"This is where I've been staying," James tells me, and holds up his hand. "And before you ask, tell me: do you really want to go back home and pretend that nothing happened to us out here?" My face must be easy to read because that's exactly what I was going to ask him. I think about it and shake my head.

We lapse into silence, both thinking about what this must mean. I believe what James has told me, that this Slenderman has marked us as victims and that we're more than likely screwed. If it follows us home, then we only endanger our families. We'll have to stay in this cabin until we know for sure what this Slenderman will do to us.

"There are worse things," James mutters absently.

I tear my eyes away from the window, glancing at him curiously. "Huh?"

"You just said we'll have to stay in this cabin until we figure out what the Slenderman plans to do with us."

I shake my head, blushing. "I didn't say that. I thought it but I haven't said a word."

"Oh." We look at each other for a minute before James blushes and coughs. "There's only one bed in this place though."

That makes me laugh. "Really, Jamey? We've been spending the night at each other's houses since second grade. Does it bother you now?" I tease him because it feels better to smile, it feels better to act normal, it feels better to forget that we might be dead by tomorrow. It feels good to see him blush, and it feels even better when he smiles and grabs me, wrapping me in a hug that leaves no room between us for Slenderman or his craziness. In his arms, I am safe.


	5. Chapter 4

James falls asleep a little while later but I do not. I am too wound up to sleep, so I decide to explore the cabin. I slip out of the bed, careful not to disturb James, and shudder as my bare feet hit the icy cold floor. I have to root around in the dark room for a minute – night has fallen and the only light in the room comes from the dying fire – before I find my socks, boots, and a warm coat. The coat is neither mine nor James's, but I put it on anyway.

The cabin is not very big. There is one main room outside of the bedroom and a bathroom in the back corner. The main room is a combination sitting room and kitchen. There is one window in this main room, across from the door outside. I peer through the curtains but the night is overcast; there is no moonlight or starlight for me to discern anything, but I have the sudden urge to go out.

If the bedroom and main room were chilly, it is nothing compared to the forest. A slight wind flings bitingly cold bits of snow in my face and I almost slip down the three cabin steps.

I could not see anything from the window, but out here there is an almost surreal glow that has no detectable origin that lets me see the shapes of the trees. I feel compelled to take a walk behind the cabin.

Everything is eerily quiet. Perhaps it is because of the snow, but I don't think that is the reason. I can sense a malicious presence in the dark, over my shoulder, but every time I look – there is nothing there.

I lose track of time as I walk farther away from the cabin. There is nothing out here; I have no idea now why I felt the urge to walk out here. My toes are numb and I decide to turn back.

When I turn around, I see him. I don't know if he was always there and I missed him as I walk past the first time, or if he has been following me this whole time. I stare in shock at the Slenderman's featureless face. There is the strangest feeling of my eyes meeting his – but that can't be possible because he doesn't have eyes – and then I feel as if a metal spike is being driven into my skull between my eyes.

I cry out in pain, falling to my knees. James in the cabin is too far away to hear me now. I am alone with the Slenderman. My eyes water as the pressure builds in my head. I am curled on the ground in a ball, sobbing. I wish he would just go away.

Daring to glance up at the sky, I am startled to see his face right above my own. I scream a long drawn-out wail that ends on a choking breath. What the hell is he doing to me? I hate feeling this weak.

I will not be this weak. If he is doing something to me without touching me, I must get him to stop. I fling my arm out, smacking into a stick-thin leg. I grab onto it with one hand, then both. He doesn't even move. He is frozen over my body, a cat toying with its dinner. My head feels all fuzzy and I can no longer see anything.

I give up trying to break his leg and start clawing my way up his leg and his torso until I am standing, clinging to his suit. He has done nothing but straighten up, and he is a good few feet taller than me. I push him away and accidentally tear off a piece of his suit. I stumble and fall back down, this time on my back. I try to get up but I cannot move…I cannot think…And everywhere there is blackness…

* * *

I wake to James shaking my shoulder in a panic. When I open my eyes he cries out and grabs me up into a hug, which hurts like a _bitch._ My entire body is sore. I can see James talking, his mouth moving, but I hear nothing. My left hand is curled in a fist, and I wonder vaguely why that is.

A black piece of fabric flutters to the ground as I open my hand. My palm is scorched, burned so that my flesh is raw, pink, and bloody. It takes my sluggish brain to realize what the fabric is. The Slenderman's suit.

I feel that the scrap of fabric is somehow important, so I bend down to pick it up again, almost toppling over in the process. As soon as my sensitive fingers brush against it, a sizzling pain goes through my palm. I slip it into my pocket and bite my lip to keep from crying out.

"Layla, what the hell were you doing out here?" Suddenly my ears begin to work again. I cringe away from James's loud voice. I cannot speak, so I simply shake my head. It is too much. What was I doing out here again? I don't remember. As far as I know I have always been out here. This is where I belong isn't it?

Perhaps realizing that he will not get a rational response out of me, James picks me up and begins to walk. My head lolls over his shoulder; I am too weak to even lift it an inch. In the space of a blink I see something in between the trees. It is a black sleeve with a white hand, and it can only belong to the Slenderman. He is watching me. I can feel it.


	6. Chapter 5

Layla hasn't spoken in three days. We've been staying in the cabin the whole time, and yesterday I had to go to the store to get us food. I was afraid to leave her alone at the cabin, but when I returned she was exactly where I left her – sitting on the bed staring absently out the window. I want to know what the hell happened out there that night. It can't have been the Slenderman; I haven't seen him since we first got here. He's been keeping his distance from us.

I wish she would talk to me. I think someone attacked her out there in the forest. Someone knows that we are here, and whoever it was did something to her. She keeps playing with this small black object, but she won't let me see what it is.

Layla is really starting to scare me. She should never have tried to find me. Nothing good can come of her being here.

* * *

James keeps trying to get me to talk to him. I can't. He doesn't understand, not like I do. For I am beginning to understand this Slenderman creature. And he doesn't talk either, at least not in the literal sense.

No, it would be best for James to leave the forest, to go home and never come back to look for me. I think I have done something unprecedented in ripping the Slenderman's suit. I don't exactly know why I brought it back to the cabin, but it is the key to figuring this whole thing out.

I remember when James first told me about the Slenderman. He said that if I ever saw him I had to promise to close my eyes, straightaway, or the creature would make my mind go fuzzy and slowly turn me insane. At least, that's what apparently happens to all of the Slenderman's victims before they disappear.

The scrap of fabric in my hands does the same thing. At first I couldn't look at it without getting a massive headache, and I couldn't touch it without getting burned. That's why I try to keep it away from James as much as possible. But ever since that first night I haven't been able to sleep – I find myself absently pulling it out of my pocket and fiddling with it. Maybe my hands are just so burned by now that they don't feel the sting anymore, but they don't look any different so I don't think that's what happened.

I think I am becoming resistant to the poison of the Slenderman.

It started slowly but it's been three days and I no longer get the paralyzing headaches. I have a theory. What if the Slenderman is no horrid monster at all? What if it is something about his suit that drives people crazy? He could be a perfectly nice, normal guy inside that suit – except for, you know, the lack of a face and the freakishly long arms. Oh, and the fact that stories of him have existed since the time of ancient civilizations. So I guess it isn't likely that the suit rather than the man inside it causes the madness. But who is he? What is he?

He isn't human but I don't think he's a monster either.

I was half-hoping he would come yesterday while James was out buying food – if we're going to stay here for an indeterminable amount of time, we have to eat at some point – but he didn't come. I get the sense that he is avoiding us, which makes me think I broke some rule in tearing his suit.

If he stays away long enough will James stop being so frightened and agree to go back home without me? I want to stay until I figure out exactly what this Slenderman creature is, but that doesn't mean he has to stay with me and put himself in danger, too. If I tell him what I suspect about the Slenderman, will he believe me? That would require talking though, and I'm not sure I can open my mouth.

I can feel myself slipping away from James. My longing to be near the Slenderman gets stronger by the hour. I have to find him. _I have to know._ Maybe this is what James meant by the victims growing crazy. If my reaction is any indication, no one else should be able to stay away from him. I know I can't.

* * *

**Sorry if this chapter is a little confusing; James has no idea what the hell is going on and Layla's mind is a bit clouded at the moment. Hopefully she'll be sane enough in the next bit to clear up some things...hehehe Until then, my loves, feel free to PM me with questions or leave your thoughts in a review. I'll reply eventually! ~Loreley**


	7. Chapter 6

_Come to me._ I wake up with a jolt. _Come to me._ A voice calls, but not aloud. It echoes in my head. I listen intently just to be sure, but all I hear is James's soft breathing next to me and the crackling of the fire in the grate.

I feel compelled to go outside so I slip out of the bed – careful not to wake James – grab my shoes and a coat, and leave the bedroom. I dress in the main room and slip outside, where all is darkness and silence. My fingers brush along the piece of fabric in my pocket and I feel an irresistible force pull my gaze to the trees. I begin to walk in that direction.

Time is meaningless. I might have walked for hours, or only seconds. I might have been walking in a straight line or in circles. Suddenly the Slenderman steps out in front of me, and I stop. I feel no fear, only a vague curiosity and something else – relief at being in his presence once more.

_You came._ The voice sounds in my mind and I realize that this must be the Slenderman's way of speaking. His voice has no inflection, so I cannot tell if he meant the words as a statement or a question. I nod.

_I did not think you would come. You are immune to my powers. You could have resisted my call, unlike James and so many before him._

"But you called to me, not to James," I reply cautiously, "and only I have come. Perhaps I did not want to resist it." I sit on the path and stare up at the Slenderman, who remains standing.

_You are different, unlike any of my other victims. Why would you choose to come to me?_ He tilts his head to the side and I can feel his nonexistent eyes studying my face.

"I want to understand," I breathe, taking the scrap of fabric out of my pocket. "Once I think I would have become the same as the rest of your 'victims,' as you call them, but this changed things."

_The suit contains only a fraction of my powers. Your assumptions thus far have been wrong._ I gasp as I realize that he must have caught the thoughts that flitted into consciousness as I looked at the fabric. _Of course I can hear your thoughts. How do you suppose I am communicating with you, if not in thought?_

"If the suit contains a fraction of your powers, how is it that I can now look at you and speak to you without the headaches that I got just a few days ago?" I ask.

_My powers are meant to confuse the mind and addle the senses, driving my victims crazy by leaking their consciousness into my body. It is how I sustain life. I do not know why you are building a resistance to it. Perhaps in small doses, my powers can be overcome._

"And what happens when I overcome your powers completely?" I dare to ask.

_That is an interesting question. Already I cannot feed off of you, which makes you useless as a victim. However, I will not dispose of you just for that minor drawback. My punishment stipulated that because of the power I exude, I would remain companionless forever. It has been too long since I have been able to talk to another person. I have almost forgotten how to do so. But you, even in this little time, have wrought startling changes. I can almost feel emotion grasp me. I shall keep you around until you are no longer of use to me. And then I shall decide your fate. Make no mistake, human, just because you are immune to my powers does not free you from my power._

I open my mouth to respond, to tell him that I would like to stay with him and he does not need to threaten me, but with that final cryptic sentence, he disappears.

* * *

**And the plot thickens! :P Whew! Sorry that its been so long since the last chapter, busy life, you know. I'll try to update this story more often though, I promise. As always, read and review! Let me know what you think, ask me questions, etc. I'll get back to you when I can :P Happy reading! ~Loreley**


	8. Chapter 7

The changes are so gradual that I don't even notice them at first. The Slenderman has not directly appeared to me – or to James – in weeks, and yet I can tell that he has been watching us. Since the last time I spoke to him, I've started to feel his presence. For the first few days I just felt this random weird pull to go outside, but once on the cabin porch I was content to just sit and stare at the trees. When I realized that I must feel the pull because he was near, I tried talking to him, but he hasn't responded. James probably worries about me, but he hasn't mentioned anything and I haven't quite gotten up the courage to ask him to return home and leave me out here alone.

Now I can tell vaguely where the Slenderman is even when he isn't nearby. The pull is stronger the closer he is, but even when he is near the other edge of the forest I can feel the direction of the pull towards him. I think he was wrong that night, when he said that his powers couldn't drive me crazy anymore, because boy do I feel like I'm going crazy! I need to be near him, and I don't understand it but I'm always restless without him. Most days I just wander around the cabin, either pacing on the front porch or staring aimlessly out the window. Where is he?

A touch on my shoulder makes me jump, and I turn to see James. I think he may have been trying to talk with me and I didn't hear him because he's giving me this really worried look. Actually, he gives me that look a lot, whenever he thinks I won't notice it.

"What?" I ask him softly. He grabs my hand and pulls me back towards the bed from where I was standing with my forehead pressed to the cool window. Wrapping a blanket around my shoulders, James sits behind me and hugs me to his chest. Some of my glassy-eyed stupor falls away at his touch and I shudder.

"We need to leave," he says into my hair.

I turn around to look at him, but his eyes look deadly serious. "Why?"

"Because clearly being out here isn't good for you. Look, there's been no sign of…him…in a while. Maybe he's gone. This could be our chance to go back home, to have normal lives." He was looking at me so earnestly. This was the perfect time for me to tell him that he should leave, but that I had every intention of staying here.

I couldn't.

I couldn't do it.

I don't know why, but looking at James, feeling his comforting heartbeat against my back, I feel like I am coming up from a nightmare. This is real. James is real. For all I know, the Slenderman could be a figment of my imagination brought on by the creepiness and mistiness of the woods. I feel more alive than I have in days, more alert. A small part of my brain still urges me to tell James thanks, but no thanks. The bigger, rational part of my brain (which feels like it has just woken up from a long, deep sleep) wants to leave with James.

"Are you sure he's gone? If we leave and he still wants us, he could follow us. What if he goes after our families…?"

"We won't know unless we try, Layla. I think if he really wanted us, he'd have taken us by now, you know? And besides, you're starting to scare me. You never talk anymore. You just wander around with this dazed look all day, like you're drugged or something. I need to get you out of here, go somewhere that's better for you…you can understand that can't you?"

I realize something as he says this. His voice is intense – pleading but hesitant. And even though I'm turned around so that I can look at him, he won't meet my eyes. He stares at the fire, or the floor, or the window – anywhere but at my face.

James is afraid of me.

What have I done to warrant that? It isn't like I've been puking up ectoplasm or spinning my head all the way around (at least, not that I can remember, and that would be way too awkward to ask so I'm not going to say it). I'm not possessed. Just quiet. What's wrong with being quiet?

I am so wrapped up in this new spiral of thought that I forget to respond. James coughs, looking pointedly at my ear. "I want to leave tomorrow. Please? Is that okay with you?" He takes his arms from around me and folds them protectively across his chest. I know that move. He's trying to avoid confrontation.

So I shrug my shoulders and stand up, moving away from him. "Sure, I guess." I find myself drawn back to the window and thoughts of the Slenderman. Everything else fades from my mind. One of the last things he said to me before he disappeared keeps bugging me. Something about a punishment.

The door closes softly behind me. A faint stirring of guilt drifts briefly through my stomach. James is angry at me, but I can't remember why that would be. I let my gaze drift out towards the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of the one person I really want to see.

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**I really hope you are all as confused as Layla! hehehe...but seriously, this was a hard chapter to write, I totally had no idea where it was going. It just sort of happened. That's right, the story is mutating! Gah! Its writing itself! So do me a favor and review, let me know if you're surprised or confused or whatever. I'll try to clear anything up without giving too much away about future chapters ;) ~Loreley**


	9. Chapter 8

_I have grown tired of you, human. Here I have given you many suns and moons as opportunity to leave my forest. You are still here. I even planted the notion into the boy's head that you must go, and yet you remain. My patience grows thin, girl. Come to me now. Leave the boy. You are mine. Come to me…_

...

I am drawn out of the warm bed into the chilly night. James mutters and turns as I slip out from under his arm. Shivering, I grab my coat and boots without thought and head out the door, careful to shut it noiselessly behind me. Then I walk.

Not paying attention to where my feet take me, I am surprised when I stumble into a clearing with a tall crooked tree in the center. There are few leaves on this tree, all growing right at the top. The bottom branches are bare. The urge to climb this tree suddenly overwhelms me. It reminds me of the tall oak in my backyard at home, which had the perfect nook about halfway up where I used to love to sit and read. I begin to climb.

...

_**He watches from the shadows as she climbs the tree. Higher and higher she reaches, but with every branch he grows as well, to match her height. When she gets high enough, she will be trapped. She cannot fly out of the tree to run from him, and in its tall branches they will be able to see face to face. The aura of light surrounding her pulses brightly, refreshingly, undamaged by his presence. Slowly he mulls over his decision to speak to this human. She is of no use to him; if he leaves her now, releases his hold over her, she could leave. Go home. But this thought makes him sick. She must stay.**_

...

The branch above my head is just out of reach. I stretch onto my toes, barely brushing the bark with my fingertip. Out of the corner of my eye I see a glowing orb, like the moon only smoother and more oblong. It is the Slenderman's blank face. I gasp and cling to the trunk of the tree to keep from falling.

_You have come._ He speaks slowly, almost unwillingly, though I have to remind myself that is just an assumption because his voice has absolutely no inflection.

"You wanted to talk to me," I say boldly, trying to match his monotone. It makes me want to giggle, but that would be improper. Here I am, high in a tree with nowhere to run, standing face to face with the Slenderman.

_No._

I raise an eyebrow. "Well you called me here. You must have some reason. And I've decided that you want to talk. Last time you came to me, you told me of a punishment. What did you mean?"

His head cocked to the side and he seemed to sigh a long, slow sigh. _I suppose no harm could come from telling you that. Sit down._ I settle down in the fork of a branch, wiggling until my back rests comfortably against the tree trunk.

_I should not call it my own punishment. Truly, now, I am much more than I once was. This form is both a curse and a blessing. It was intended as only a curse. Many centuries ago, there was a pharaoh in ancient Egypt. This was back in the time when magic ran rampant over the Earth, before it was chained to other realms and blocked from this one. Faeries and other creatures enjoyed taking the guise of humans, to fool them and trick them. The pharaoh, as a young boy, fell in love with one such faery, thinking she was a beautiful human girl. When he became pharaoh, he asked her to be his queen. But, the faery had grown bored of him and so revealed her true form and broke his heart. Angered, and with the country's men at his disposal, he vowed vengeance on the faery and her people._

_ He chased her for many cycles of the moon, until one night he stumbled upon the dwelling place of her kind. His soldiers fell in to slaughter them all, and shocked as they were (for no human had even dared attack a flock of faeries) they reacted too late. All were killed. As the she-faery lay dying in the blood of her people, she used the last remnants of her powers to curse the pharaoh._

I looked out at the stars as he continued the dreadful story, afraid to look too long at his emotionless face.

_She told the pharaoh that because of his blatant misuse of power, his power would be his curse. Then she turned him into a faery, though one of a different form than she. She made him utterly inhuman, by bleaching all color from his skin and smoothing his features together. He no longer had fingers, toes, or a face. She left him in his pharaoh's garb, so that others who saw him would know his power. As a faery he became essentially immortal, needing no sustenance to survive. He would thrive as long as others believed in him._

_ Then she died. When he returned to his men, feeling all the more powerful for his faery skin, the men ran screaming from him. It was not until, passing a small pool of water, he glimpsed his reflection and saw the true transformation. He could see, though he had no eyes. He could hear, though he had no ears. And he could speak, after a fashion, though his lips were gone._

_ Disgraced, the pharaoh did not return to the village. He vowed to find another faery and make it change him back into a human. But they cannot – a curse can only be unmade in the way specified by its creator, and none knew what that might be._

_ The pharaoh resolved to quit society, to hide himself away until the rumors of his grotesque form died down and belief dwindled. He resolved to wait out the curse, until his immortal flesh melted away and killed him. In this he was unsuccessful. For, in searching for a remote place to live out his days, he happened upon a shepherd, a nomad. When the man saw him coming, he abandoned his flock and ran as fast as his feet could carry him. And a strange thing happened to the pharaoh._

_ His despondency turned to triumph, to joy. A rush of power flowed through him, turning his thoughts from hiding to haunting. The faery had not told him the true extent of her curse. Yes, his power would be his undoing. Others would avoid him at all cost, for his power was palpable. But, with every man who ran in fear, his power grew. For a time, with each rush of power, he would forget his vow to hide away. It quickly became an addiction, the taste of fear and the rush of power. So the pharaoh was doomed to wander alone, ever after._

I sat quietly as his voice drifted into silence. The night was chilly, and I shivered even with the heavy coat. After a few minutes, I sensed that he was waiting for me to speak. I cleared my throat. "So…you were the pharaoh, once? That's pretty cool I guess." I turned around to glance at him, but nothing was there. The Slenderman had vanished.

* * *

**And with that thrilling tale, I leave you. Unfortunately due to limited computer access for the foreseeable future, it will probably be awhile before I get another chance to update it. I hope this whets your appetite for whenever the next one appears, though! As always, read, review, and favourite if you haven't already! I'll answer any questions you have, just message me! And remember not to let Slendy make you go too crazy while I'm gone ;) ~Loreley**


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